


my life, my love, my only

by brahe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, BAMF Finn, Banter, Big Soft™, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Force Sensitivity, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Poe Dameron, Kyber Crystals, M/M, Non-Graphic Description of Injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Pet Names, Poe Crying, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Post-Wedding, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, That's Not How The Force Works, Wedding Reception, alternate title five times they basically get married and the one time it's official, character injury, emotional highs and emotional lows, everybody gets the force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: "Hi," he says, and he shifts onto his tiptoes to kiss Poe properly. "You're covered in grease.""I know," Poe says, and he steals another kiss. "It really adds to my roguish charm, don't you think?"Finn's laugh is loud and full, and both of their smiles are in the way when he goes for a third kiss. "At the risk of boosting your ego even more," Finn says, "dirty mechanic is a good look for you."Or,Five times Poe uses a pet name, and one time he doesn't
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 66
Kudos: 693





	1. baby

**Author's Note:**

> first time really diving into finnpoe im constantly cry it's fine
> 
> this is a very handwavey timeline and I don't really have a set date for the start of their relationship? idk they're space married that's all i got
> 
> this also probably exists in my headcanon universe i've yet to really write abt; biggest relevant point for this fic is that poe is a low-level force sensitive in the sense that he can detect emotions and can have slightly stronger connections with other stronger force sensitives that amplify his own abilities  
> (and also that the necklace he wears his shara's wedding ring (which is canon according to the visual dictionary (bless))) 
> 
> fic is complete, posting in chapters  
> title from never stop by safetysuit
> 
> happy new year!

Finn hates crashing. Hates falling out of the sky, hates watching the ground rush up to meet them, hates the swooping feeling in his stomach, hates the momentary uncertainty of whether this is the end.

They're falling fast – too fast for Finn to do anything about – and he hates that he can't see Poe’s face from the back seat of this borrowed x-wing.

He thinks Poe might be shouting over the sound of the alarms, but it's all distant to Finn, who feels like he's inside a bacta tank, everything quiet, far away. He leans forward, fumbling his hand until his fingers find Poe’s shoulder, and he holds on, grip tight as he can make it. There's another moment of falling, of that lurching in his stomach, and then Poe's fingers are wrapping around his own, prying them off his shoulder to thread them together the best he can.

"I love you," Finn says to the static in his helmet, the comms systems fried. "I love you, I love you."

He squeezes Poe’s hand as they hit the ground, and falls into blackness.

  
  


Finn wakes up to the smell of smoke. He blinks for a moment, processing, and then jerks up, fighting against his seatbelt to get it off. He's still inside the x-wing, or what's left of it. The top of the cockpit is gone, the remains resting on its side; Finn falls hard against the edge of it when he gets his seatbelt loose. He stands, looking over the edge of the cockpit at the rest of the wreckage. Both of the left wings are detached and smoking several clicks away, and there's pieces of the ship scattered in the dirt streak they created. The right wings are still attached, though barely, hanging at an angle with the edges in the dirt, flames taking their time at consuming the wreckage.

 _Poe_.

Finn would know if he's dead, _knows_ he would know, and it doesn't –

He scrambles around the mangled remains of the pilot seat and exhales so heavily he nearly falls when he sees Poe still buckled in. The relief fades as quickly as it came, though, Finn's veins chilling as he takes in the blood on Poe’s face, the sharp angle of his arm, the coldness of his signature.

"No, no, no," Finn mutters, quickly moving pieces of the cockpit out of the way, carefully undoing the buckles of the pilot's seat. Poe falls forward, heavy, head landing over Finn's shoulder as he half-carries, half-drags him out of the cockpit.

Finn lays him on the ground, hands coming to the sides of his face. He finds a gash behind Poe’s ear, a deep cut bleeding sluggishly into his hair. His body is covered in cuts and scrapes, bones bent and bruised, and he's not dead, he's _not_ , but he's heading quickly in that direction.

The faint but distinctive sound of a First Order scout ship floats across the forest at the same time Poe starts coughing, deep, painful sounds that shake his shoulders. He blinks bleary, bloodshot eyes up at Finn and offers him a faint smile.

"Hey, baby," he says, voice thin, and then frowns. "Why do you feel so sad?"

Poe brings the hand of his good arm up, searching weakly for Finn. Finn grabs onto his hand, holds it tightly.

"Hey," Finn says, and he's barely keeping himself from crying. He holds Poe’s hand against his cheek. "Things don't look so good for us, here."

Poe rolls his head to the side, takes in the burning wreck of the x-wing. "Well," he says, then coughs again. He rolls his head back to Finn. "I've handled worse."

Finn huffs. "Of course you have," he says. The sound of the scout ship gets louder, the birds flying from the trees around them. In no time they'll be surrounded by First Order troopers sent to kill them, and they're stuck here in the open, unprotected.

Poe squeezes his hand. "You'll be okay," he says, and Finn nearly chokes on the sharp grief in his chest at the certainty in Poe’s voice. "Get out of here."

"Not a chance," Finn says voice hard, tears falling steadily down his cheeks. "I won't leave you."

"We both can't get out of this," Poe says, and his voice is thinner now, breathing labored. Finn can feel his presence slipping, growing dimmer, colder. "Go, baby, please."

"No." Finn shakes his head, tears falling onto Poe’s skin. "I'm not leaving you."

Poe weakly shakes his head. "I love you," he murmurs, and he flicks his eyes around Finn's face, at once longing and resigned. "I'm sorry," he says, and Finn watches his eyes close, his hand going slack in Finn's own.

He stares, for a moment utterly lost. Poe is slipping from him, Force signature fading quickly, and Finn grasps desperately at it, refusing to let him go. He curls his body over Poe’s, hands in the dirt on either side of him, and he turns his face to the sky.

"You can't take him from me!" he yells, calling all his power to him, calling the power of the forest, of this planet. A wind picks up around them as his hands shake, fingertips starting to burn. "You can't _have him_!" The words leave his throat raw, the Force leaves his body swaying and sweating, but Poe’s breathing smooths, his signature warming, and Finn knows he's kept him.

  
  


The scout ship lands near the remains of the left wings, and the old, familiar sound of trooper armor shifting follows. Finn looks at Poe, at the smooth lines of his face, and he lets go of Poe’s hand slowly as he stands and turns. Over the top of the overturned cockpit, he can see the troopers fanning out around the wreck, blasters sharp black against the white of their uniforms. As if moving in slow motion, Finn turns over his shoulder to glance again at Poe, flexing his hands, and then he's facing the First Order. There's a blaster somewhere in the cockpit, he thinks, but he doesn't need it – the truth of that settles into his bones, floods his veins with power.

He's unprotected, standing up here, the wreck of the cockpit too short to shield him; he's hopelessly outnumbered, one man against a dozen; and he's exhausted, the effort of keeping Poe alive draining his strength rapidly. The wind whips at the loose pieces of his clothes as he watches the troopers take aim, blasters raised and aimed at him.

 _This is it_ , he thinks, Poe's signature heavy on his mind – he wins here or they both die, and this is the end. He looks at his hands, turning them over to look at the lines on his palms, and the Force sings to him, sings through him.

At the same time the troopers pull their triggers, Finn throws his arms out, head tilted to the sky. He doesn't hear it, but his throat is sore from his scream, and he feels the faint presence each trooper has vanish like candle flames when he clenches his hands into fists.

He stumbles forward at the same time the bodies of the troopers fall to the ground, hands on his knees as he takes ragged breaths that aren't deep enough, gasping for air.

_Poe._

He trips over his feet in his rush to return to Poe, hindered by his shaking knees. He collapses on the ground beside Poe, folding himself over Poe’s chest. His whole body is quivering, in exhaustion or something else, Finn doesn't know, but they're safe now. He finds Poe’s good hand with his own, holding on.

  
  


Rey finds them, later – Finn doesn't remember passing out, but he wakes to Rey's white sashes and her concerned eyes, her hand on his shoulder.

"Poe," Finn says, voice much hoarser than he expected. He picks himself off Poe enough for Rey to see him.

She looks between Finn and Poe with that expression she gets when she's looking with more than her eyes.

"Finn," she says, suddenly insistent. "Finn, you need to tell me what happened."

Finn shakes his head repeatedly. "I don't know," he mutters, "I don't know, I don't know, I just –" He looks up at Rey with wide eyes, nearly terrified of his own strength. "I had to save him," he tells her. "I had to, I _had to_ –"

"Okay," Rey breathes, "okay, that's okay." She smooths a hand over Finn's head, holds the back of his head as he rests his forehead against her thigh. "He'll be okay," she says. "We need to get you both back to base."

It takes her a bit, but she coaxes Finn into letting go of Poe, into standing, and together they get Poe onto Rey's transport, BB-8 following them, beeping cautiously.

Poe wakes when they're getting him onto the cot Rey brought, fighting against them before realizing who they are. He sags back against the sheets, good hand tight around Finn's.

"You're a dumbass," Rey tells him, reaching over him for the straps to secure the bed. Poe gives her a shadow of his usual cocky grin.

"One of my best traits," he says, then launches into a coughing fit that makes both Finn and Rey wince.

"I'll get you some ice chips," Rey tells him, Poe’s answering thanks almost too quiet to hear, and she disappears down the hall.

Poe’s gaze wanders to Finn, who's standing at the edge of the bed, so tense he looks like he's about to pass out.

"Hey, baby," he says, again, voice just as thin as before, only this time he smiles. It's weak and barely half-formed, but it's beautiful. "You did it."

"Of course I did," Finn says, and he shifts to brush Poe’s hair off his forehead. His skin is hot to the touch, and Finn's anxious to get him medical attention. He brings their clasped hands to his lips, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses a kiss to Poe’s knuckles. "I love you," he says, voice cracking. " _Force_ , I love you so much."

Poe rubs his thumb against the side of Finn's hand. "Love you, too," he says. "I'm going to pass out again."

Finn breathes out a laugh. "That's okay," he tells him, because it is, now, Poe’s signature no longer flickering, fading. "I'll be here when you wake up."


	2. dearest

Finn's been acting weird. 

It took Poe a couple days to notice, but now he can't stop noticing. Finn's tired, more so than usual, and he's shifty, jumping every time Poe comes up behind him or beside him. Sometimes he rushes off, disappears for a few hours, and Poe’s starting to worry.

"Hey," Poe says, dropping onto the moss beside Rey. They're at the edge of the woods, the sounds of the forest clearer, here, the air damp, the trees tall and old. The moss is soft, light green, growing over the forest floor and up the nearby trees. Poe immediately feels calmer – he can feel the age of the trees, the warmth of the sun, the life from deeper into the forest. 

Rey opens an eye to look at him.

"Hey," she says.

"I know you're – busy," Poe says, her meditation pose obvious, the serenity of her signature clear to him. She hums. "But I'm worried about Finn."

She uncrosses her legs, coming out of her meditation, and turns to him. "What's wrong?" 

Poe feels her concern, sees it in her face, and he wrings his hands. "I know – I know the crystal trials are personal, and you can't talk about them," he starts. "But…did you notice anything off with him, after?" 

Rey looks at him, thoughtful. "You think it's related to his trials?" 

"I don't know." Poe shakes his head. "He was fine right after you got back, but now…"

Rey hums again, and she turns her face up to the canopy, sunlight speckled on her face. "He feels normal to me," she says. "Maybe a little…nervous? But nothing unusual." 

Poe picks at the moss with a frown, and Rey turns her attention back to him. "Have you felt anything?" 

Poe shakes his head. "It's all his usual," Poe tells her. "His aura – signature, sorry – his signature stays the same while I'm around." He thinks about the last three days, about the warm smile Finn gives him every morning, about the solidness of his presence during board meetings, about the gentle love Poe always feels from him. Except –

"Actually," Poe says, and Rey perks up. "Lately, he hasn't been able to tell I'm coming. I've scared him a few times, and he always feels – nervous, like you said. Anxious, too."

Rey hums a third time, more wondering this time. She looks at Poe, takes in his humidity-frizzed hair and the bags under his eyes, feels his worry and his love, and she bites down a smile.

"Maybe he's going to ask you to marry him," she says with a shrug, and laughs softly when Poe chokes.

He wipes at the corners of his eyes and glares at her. "That's not funny," he says, pointing at her. She grins. 

"It kind of is," she says, then stands. Poe looks up at her from the moss. "I wouldn't worry about it," she tells him, wiping the dirt from her pants. "He'll tell you what's going on when he's ready."

"That's not very helpful," Poe calls as she heads back to camp. "Typical Jedi bullshit," he grumbles, and she flips him off, laugh echoing through the trees as she goes to find Finn. 

  
  


Poe finds Finn in their quarters later, after he's missed dinner. He's sitting on the floor in the middle of the room with his back to the door, working on something in front of him. He doesn't seem to have heard Poe come in, so Poe quietly sets down the dinner tray he brought for Finn and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"Finn," he says, keeping his voice soft, but Finn still jumps hard, sitting up straight and whirling his head around.

"Poe!" he says, too quick. "You're back! I, uh –" 

Finn turns back to whatever's on the floor in front of him, trying to cover it up, hide it. Poe frowns.

"You weren't at dinner," Poe says. "I was worried about you. I've  _ been  _ worried about you, actually."

Finn looks back at him again. "Oh, right, I lost track of time, I – you're worried about me?" He furrows his brow. "Why?" 

Poe frowns and starts to move away from the door, coming around Finn's left slowly. "Why?" he repeats. "I've barely seen you the last few days. You've been so…jumpy all the time. And you feel…anxious." Poe sits on the edge of the bed and looks at Finn, who's holding his hands over whatever he was doing on the floor. Poe sighs. "It makes me feel like you're hiding something." 

Finn stands up so fast Poe’s half surprised he doesn't immediately fall back over. "Hiding!" he says, too loud. "I'm not hiding anything! I –" 

He realizes too late that he's left his project uncovered, and he looks to the floor with a quiet groan.

"I guess now's as good a time as any," he says, and he sits back down. He looks at Poe. "C'mere."

Poe slides off the bed and settles on the floor across from Finn. Between them is a collection of pieces, twine and yarn and wire and thin leather rope; he picks up a few pieces, inspecting each in confusion.

"Dearest, what in the galaxy are you doing?" Poe asks, and when he looks up, Finn's watching him, cheeks red, eyes soft.

"Well," Finn starts, and he reaches into his jacket, taking something out and holding it in a fist. "I – made you something," he says, stilted as if he'd wanted to say something else. "It's –"

Finn shakes his head. "Just, here," he says, holding out his fist, and opening his hand. A necklace sits on his palm, thin brown leather with a wire-wrapped pendant, a small purple crystal with a jagged edge. Poe takes it carefully, holding the strand in one hand and resting the pendant against his other. The crystal is warm, and it feels like – it feels like Finn, he realizes, like a shadow of his signature in Poe’s palm. He looks up at Finn with wide eyes.

"Is this–?" he asks, voice quiet.

"A kyber crystal," Finn finishes, nodding, his attention heavy on Poe. He takes a breath. "My kyber crystal."

Poe jerks up, eyes back on Finn after they had drifted to the necklace again. He curls his hand around the crystal. "Yours?" he repeats. He furrows his brow. "Don't you need it?" 

Finn shakes his head. "Mine came in two pieces," he explains. "One the right size for a lightsaber, but the other too small." He motions to the necklace in Poe's hand. "I knew, right away, I – I want you to have it." 

Poe hadn't realized, but he'd been rubbing his thumb on the crystal. He knows how big of a deal this is – kyber crystals are hard to come by, these days, and he's nowhere strong enough in the Force to have his own. But he has an inkling of what Finn means, can feel the rightness of holding the crystal in his hand.

"Thank you," he says, swallowing his gut reaction to return it to Finn. "I'm honored to have it."

Finn rubs a hand at the back of his neck. "That's what I've been working on since Rey and I got back. It was harder to make than I thought it would be," he says with a soft laugh. Poe smiles. 

"I love it," Poe tells him, and he holds it back out to Finn. "Can you put it on?" 

Finn takes it and shifts, sitting to Poe’s right. He slowly brings the necklace around Poe’s neck, tying it with deft fingers. Poe reaches for the crystal, running his fingertips along it, and Finn lingers over his shoulder. He presses a kiss below the knot in the necklace, and traces the line of Poe’s shoulder with a dozen soft kisses, resting his chin on Poe’s shoulder when he's finished.

"It feels like it's alive," Poe says, quiet, still tracing the edges of the crystal. It's a beautiful shade of purple, somewhere between lavender and violet, and he loves the way it looks in his hand, the way it feels around his neck. "It feels like you." 

Finn shifts, and Poe turns around to catch Finn's lips in a soft kiss.

"Sorry to worry you," Finn says. Poe traces the edges of his face, along his jaw and over his eyebrows and down his nose.

"It's okay," Poe says. He's already addicted to the way the crystal feels on his skin, to the faint warmth it radiates both physically and in the Force.

Finn pushes some of Poe's curls behind his ear, thumb running over the spot where he should have an ugly scar. Poe moves his fingers from Finn's face to wrap around Finn's hand, bringing it down from his hairline to his lips.

"Thank you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Finn's palm, and if he's talking about more than just the crystal, then Finn knows. He squeezes Finn's hand before letting go, and then he's fidgeting with the crystal again, the ghost of a grin on his face. Finn frowns.

"So," Poe says, doing that dumb thing he does with his eyebrows when he's trying to be sexy. "A Jedi, huh?"

Finn snorts, shaking his head. "Not quite," Finn tells him. Poe shrugs.

"As long as you're not about to subscribe to the whole religion," Poe says. "I'm pretty fond of kissing you."

"Oh, I see," Finn says, "you only want me for my body."

"Yeah," he says, laughter coloring the word. He grabs onto the front of Finn's shirt, pulling him along as he falls back onto the floor. He smiles up at Finn, soft and seductive in a way only he seems to manage. "Something like that." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> purple lightsaber finn :')


	3. sweetheart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to wookiepedia for having an extensive answer to "star wars tools"

Finn gets out of his mid-afternoon meeting later than he should've; lunch is gone from the cantina, so he grabs a meiloorun and heads to the hanger. 

He finds Poe at his x-wing, tools laid out on the floor around it and BB-8 chirping loudly to Poe, handing him the requested tools.

"Hey, B, I need the servodriver," Poe calls from somewhere inside the ship. BB-8 whirls in response and rolls over to the tool arrangement, shifting so his photoreceptor is hardly a few inches above each one, and works his way down the line. Finn laughs to himself and comes over, picking up the servodriver and ducking under the x-wing.

"Here," he says, holding it out. Poe’s up in the bottom of the ship, working on some kind of wiring in the area between the cockpit and BB-8's space. His hands are covered in grease, and there's streaks of it up his arms and on his face, too. The old pair of overalls he's got on are half undone and also covered in grease, plus a few dozen other old stains; and the shirt he's wearing underneath was white, once, maybe, but is now a washed out grey with all sorts of colorful blots and spots. His hair is loose, curls still sleep-soft and tangled, flattened where his goggle band wraps around his head, and Finn's so in love with him. 

Poe reaches back for the tool, and it takes him nearly a minute to turn after he's taken it to actually look down. He blinks in surprise and then grins when he sees Finn. "Oh, hey," he says, and Finn smiles back at him.

"Hey yourself. Whatchya doing?"

"I've been having some trouble with the deflector shield generator since Exagol, and BB's tired of having to deal with it in-flight, so I'm trying to get it back to fully functional." 

Finn lifts an eyebrow, wondering why Poe hasn't fixed it yet – but they've both been busy, he supposes, with responsibilities and with each other. "Need a hand?" 

Poe grins at him again, that big, soft one that makes Finn's insides melt and his knees weak. "Love a hand," he says. Finn watches him wiggle around for a second, and then he's turned around, laying on his stomach on the working platform, head off the edge of it, closer to Finn's level. 

"Hi, sweetheart," Poe says, voice soft, and he surges forward to press a kiss to Finn's nose.

Finn huffs a laugh, scrunching his nose in response, and he reaches up for Poe, resting his palms against either side of his face. He wipes his thumb at the grease on Poe’s right cheekbone, but it dried too long ago to come off that easily. "Hi," he says, and he shifts onto his tiptoes to kiss Poe properly. "You're covered in grease."

"I know," Poe says, and he steals another kiss. "It really adds to my roguish charm, don't you think?"

Finn's laugh this time is loud and full, and both of their smiles are in the way when he goes for a third kiss. "At the risk of boosting your ego even more," Finn says, "dirty mechanic is a good look for you."

"Did you hear that, B?" Poe calls. "I told you he'd like the look!"

BB-8's energetic chirping answers him, and Finn's heart tries to escape his chest when Poe laughs.

"He helped me pick the overalls," Poe tells Finn, who laughs again, softer this time.

"Oh, you planned your outfit?" Finn says. "For this?" 

"Baby, I  _ always _ plan my looks," Poe says, mock-affront thick in his voice. Finn scoffs, thinking of the numerous times Poe has rolled out of bed and into a pair of shoes to make it to a meeting on time.

"Whatever you say, General," Finn says, kissing Poe one more time before letting him go. "If you don't get back to work, we'll be here all day."

"We'll be here all day either way," Poe shrugs, but he flips back over anyway, picking up the servodriver and getting back into the wiring.

Finn settles onto the floor below the rigging.

BB-8 bumps against his leg, chirping, and Finn reaches out to scritch at his head.

"Me too, buddy," he says, and leans back onto his elbows.

"You two better not be planning anything down there," Poe calls, voice muffled inside the ship, and Finn smiles. "Not without me, at least."

"Oh, of course," Finn agrees, and the faint Force bond he shares with Poe is glowing with happiness, his heart nearly about to burst with it. Finn has a dinner meeting today, and Poe’s gearing up for another mission in a few days, but right now they have time. They've  _ earned  _ time, time to sit around and make fun of each other and take a break from this galaxy they're rebuilding to simply  _ be _ , be in love, be happy, be together.


	4. hon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the only one that's like,, not sweet ig but u kno tryna be a lil realistic w the relationship woes n all that

Poe sighs, leaning against the edge of the conference table. "We just don't have that kind of strength right now," he says, shaking his head. The Keshian delegation leader grumbles, shaking his head too, and turns to confer with his fellows.

Finn watches Poe from where he's standing a quarter way around the table. He looks calm and collected, the right amount of regretful and steadfast, everything the Resistance leader should be; deeper than that, though, Finn can see the heavy droop of his shoulders, the bags under his eyes that keep getting darker and darker, and he can feel the weight of Poe’s stress through the Force – even the little bit he projects is enough to give Finn a headache.

"So there is nothing you can do?" one of the delegates asks. She looks hopeful, and Finn knows it crushes Poe to have to turn her down.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Maybe in a few months, but right now – we're barely keeping ourselves standing." Poe sighs again. "I wish there was more I could offer you."

The delegation leader gives Poe a slight bow. "Thank you for your time, General," he says. "We're eternally grateful for what you and your soldiers have done for the galaxy."

Poe returns the bow, stepping away from the table as the Keshians gather their delegates and exit the room, leaving Poe, Finn, and a few other senior members behind. Finn watches Poe slump into himself, disappointment thick in the air around him, and he comes around the table, reaches for Poe.

"Hey," he says, quiet, hesitant to speak too loudly for fear of breaking the tenuous atmosphere of the room. "Hey, we did all we could do –"

Poe jerks up, away from Finn, waving his hand dismissively, face darkening. He stutters in his steps forward, and he half-turns to Finn, eyes unfocused, far away. "I can't –" he starts, tone sharp, and Finn flinches back. Poe shakes his head, and he's angry, Finn realizes, and he's directing it at _him_. "I can't do this with you right now, hon, I –" He cuts himself off and leaves the room just as suddenly, a whirlwind of irritation and exhaustion in his wake.

Finn stares after him, blinking in shock, falling back against the edge of the conference table. His chest aches in a way he's unfamiliar with, pieces of Poe’s pain mixing with his own helplessness, chipping away at his heart. As he stares at the door, debating whether to stay or go, he thinks of the way Poe called him _hon_ and how he never wants to hear it like that again.

Poe finds him a few hours later curled up in the corner of the small couch in their joint office, pushed in front of the window that looks out over the forest. He knows Finn's felt him come in – Finn always reaches for him through the Force when they're close, something that feels like a light breeze through leaves, a warmth over his bones.

"Hey," Poe says quietly, standing just inside the doorway. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, fingertips catching at the tie on the kyber crystal band. Finn doesn't turn around, says nothing.

"I, um –" Poe starts and stops almost immediately. He fidgets with the crystal pendant, its faint warmth familiar, it's weight comforting. "I'm sorry," he says to the back of Finn's head, and he suddenly aches for him, to see him, to hold him. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"No," Finn agrees, still unshifting on the couch. Poe steps quietly and makes his way over, coming around the side that isn't occupied.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says again, softer this time, and he sits carefully on the arm of the couch, toeing off his shoes before bringing his feet to the cushion. He holds his own hands together to stop the urge to reach for Finn – Finn, who finally turns to him, looking at him with the carefully neutral face he's been practicing. There's a moment of silence, a two-breath time where Poe sits in his judgment, and then Finn's moving, shifting just enough towards Poe.

"Why?" he asks, and Poe could cry with the whiplash of emotions he's handled today. He sinks heavy onto the cushion, mostly on accident, half crumbling under the realization of the pressure, folding up with his knees tight to his chest. When he sighs, it's wet, it's shaking, and he presses the edge of his forehead into his palm.

"I didn't mean to," Poe starts. "I've been so worried lately, about everything, and it went so horribly with the Keshians, and I'm so _tired_ –" He inhales sharply. "I'm not trying to make excuses," he says. "I shouldn't have been short with you." He finally looks up, finds Finn's warm, dark eyes on him, and he breaks, a sudden falling apart. His shoulders jerk forward, his forehead falling toward to his knees, sob sharp in the quiet of the room.

Finn regards Poe both with his eyes and his feelings; he feels as rough as he looks, his signature heavy and getting heavier, sagging with pain and exhaustion more intense than Finn expected. He can count on one hand the number of times he's seen Poe cry, and it hurts like a knife every time, every hitch of breath a new wound.

"Kriff, Finn," Poe says, shifting to peer at Finn over his knees, cheeks shining, "why did she think I could do this?"

They have this conversation often, Poe's self-doubts like tiny bombs exploding every few weeks, always leaving Finn feeling woefully inadequate, floundering for words.

Before he's found anything to say, Poe’s wiping at his face, laughing weakly. "Force, I'm supposed to be apologizing to you," he says. "I really am sorry," he repeats, and Finn – what is he supposed to do when Poe looks at him like this – eyelashes dark and clumping with tears, face soft and painfully open, signature reaching so desperately for Finn's – like Finn has the answers, like Finn's all he needs.

Finn reaches for Poe, holds his hand open in the space between them for half of a heartbeat before Poe’s hand shoots out for his, wrapping tight. "Dearest," he murmurs, breathed like a prayer, and he brings Finn's hand up to press a kiss to his palm.

"Stop apologizing," Finn tells him, voice hardly any louder. "I forgive you," he says. "Promise."

Poe somehow tightens his grip on Finn's hand. "I love you," he says, offers Finn a shimmery, watery smile. Finn's heart aches tight in his chest.

"Come here," he says, tugging on their clasped hands. Poe falls easily, head landing on Finn's stomach, their legs tangled, hands still tight together. Finn brings his free hand to the back of Poe’s head. "I love you, too."

He brushes his fingers through Poe’s curls as he cries a damp spot into the middle of Finn's shirt, laying his head back against the armrest and blinking up at the ceiling. It hurts to listen to him cry, _aches_ even in their faint Force bond, and he curls his hand into Poe’s hair, projects love as loud as he can.

"I love you so much," Poe murmurs, muffled in Finn's chest. "I couldn't do this without you."

Finn twists one of Poe’s curls around his finger. "I know," he says with a soft laugh, relieved when he hears Poe's answering huff. He finds himself thinking of the meeting earlier, and he sighs, a light sound. "I didn't like that one, I think," Finn says, matching tone, still playing with the pieces of Poe’s hair.

Poe shifts, though, pushing himself up with his hands on Finn's chest to look at Finn, brows furrowed. "Didn't like what?"

"Hon," Finn says, pushing Poe's hair away from his face.

"Oh." Poe falls back to Finn's chest, resting higher now. He winds his arms around Finn, sliding them between Finn and the couch, and settles his ear over Finn's heartbeat. Poe's entire world slows, narrows, as his senses fill with Finn – his weak Force sense saturated by Finn, his heartbeat matching time to Finn's. "Yeah," he says, thinking back to the way he'd nearly thrown the word at Finn, sharp and ugly. He tightens his arms around Finn's chest. "I didn't like it either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, writing "we're eternally grateful": _you have saved our lives, we are eternally grateful_
> 
> curse of the toy story generation


	5. darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _black one_ is alive and well bc i make the rules sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The sound of an x-wing coming in to land has become such a familiar sound to Finn, a whirl of engines and wind and the skid of landing pads. He watches the squadron land from just inside the hanger, five x-wings touching down in a perfect line, engines cut one after the other. 

General Dameron has spent the last four days with Black Squadron on a scouting mission, a fly-over of the First Order's major hotspots to ensure there hasn't been any revival. The information they've gained is invaluable; knowing that all the primary First Order bases are  _ really  _ gone lifts a weight off the entire New Republic effort.

A familiar black x-wing lands closest to the hanger; he'd know it's Poe, even without his tell-tale paint job – his signature, bright and warm, sunshine after weeks of rain, calls to Finn's own, threading together easy as breathing. 

The ship's cockpit eases open, and Poe's lifting himself out, jumping down onto the landing strip, BB-8 hot on his heels.

Post-flight Poe is always something to behold. He's in his throwback orange flightsuit, and he shakes his hair out when he takes his helmet off, head thrown back, face in the sun, a soft smile on his face. 

His signature is sparkling with the satisfaction of a mission well-done, gentle joy and relief leaving him glowing in the Force.

He spots Finn, then, and Finn's heart nearly stops in his chest. If he thought Poe's signature was glowing before, it has nothing on the way he shines now, the strength of his love and his happiness turning him into a solar fire of the Light. 

Poe approaches him, determined, and instead of stopping where Finn expected him to, or coming in for a typical hug, he keeps coming until he's in Finn's space, until he's got a hand on each side of Finn's face and he's pulling him into a deep kiss.

"Oh," Finn breathes, struggling for air. He flexes his hands where they've come to rest on Poe’s biceps. "Hello to you, too." 

Poe grins, and he's still standing close enough that Finn can really only see part of it, the right side of his face scrunched up in happiness, eyes crinkled, the shape of the smile that always leaves Finn weak in the knees. He holds on a little tighter.

Poe kisses him again, just as breathtaking, just as devastating. "Darling," he says, a murmur in the scant space between them, and comes in for a third kiss. "Darling, my darling," he murmurs, half lost between lips. Finn moves his hands, threads his fingers through those glorious, glorious helmet curls, and Poe winds his arms around Finn's waist. 

"I take it the mission went well?" he asks, as Poe’s started to press gentle, insistent kisses along Finn's jaw.

"Wonderfully," Poe confirms. "Fantastically. Better than we could've possibly hoped." He pulls far enough away to look at Finn. "Exactly as you predicted, dearest."

Finn laughs, pulling Poe tighter to him, and it gets him that beautiful smile once again. "I told you," Finn says. "A Jedi always knows." 

"Oh, a Jedi  _ now _ , huh?" Poe says, eyebrow raised. Finn shrugs.

"Something like that," he says, and then Poe's tightening his arms around Finn's waist, the only warning Finn gets before Poe's lifting him off the ground and spinning him around. Finn holds onto Poe's shoulders, wind in his ears, and he laughs, so happy he could burst with it.

Poe sets him back down, palms wide and heavy on his hips, gaze like gravity. "Stars, you are beautiful," Poe says, ducking in for kiss number four, taking the breath straight from Finn's chest.

"Funny," Finn says, arms loose around Poe's neck, "I was thinking the same about you." How could he not when Poe is here, looking so stunning with his helmet curls and jumpsuit, looking at Finn like he's the center of the universe.

Poe's grin gets in the way of the next kiss. "I miss anything important?" he asks. The crystal around his neck is warm against his chest, glowing softly like it does around Finn.

Finn hums, tilting his head. "Yeah," Finn tells him, "me."

Poe throws his head back when he laughs, a vision, and Finn's smile is so big it hurts his cheeks. When Poe looks back at him, his dark eyes are shining, his expression soft and open, gaze flicking back and forth between Finn's eyes. 

"Well, you're certainly right about that," Poe says. He brings a hand up to Finn's face, following the lines of it like he's so fond of doing. He exhales, and it feels like coming in to land after flight lessons with his mom, like breathing in the fresh air while sitting on top of the Uneti tree at his parents' house, like  _ home _ . His chest tightens, and maybe his eyes get a little glassy. "I love you," he says, letting his hands fall down along Finn's neck, over his shoulders and down his arms. Finn pushes their foreheads together. "So, so much."

"Love you," Finn says, rubbing their noses together. He slides his hands back to front along Poe's chin, puts half a foot of space between them. "Come on," he says, "I have something I wanna show you."

Poe raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, come  _ on _ ," Finn says, grabbing Poe's hand to tug him along. Poe laughs, stumbling after him; his ship and his squadron aren't going anywhere, anyway.

Finn leads him to the little Jedi camp Rey and Finn have built at the edge of the base, full of borrowed blankets and Luke's old books and a dozen other pieces Poe doesn't recognize, but feel familiar. The whole space feels like a combination of _ReyandFinn_ , but there's enough of Leia's signature that clings to some of the pieces that Poe doesn't come around too often.

Finn stops Poe with a hand to his chest and disappears around a stack of crates. "Stay there," he says, as Poe tries to lean around the crates. He pops his head around the corner, pointing a finger at Poe's faux-innocent look. "Stay."

"I'm staying!" Poe says, and laughs softly when Finn makes a disbelieving sound. There's several faint, unfamiliar sounds, and Poe's curiosity is about to kill him. He fiddles with the crystal around his neck – which is warmer than usual, but he figures it's just Finn.

"Close your eyes!" Finn calls, and Poe, according, shuts them. "Are they closed?"

"Yes, baby, they're closed," he says, laughing. "Come on, you're killing me!" 

"I'm standing in front of you," Finn announces, although Poe figured he had come close. "You can open when I say."

The air falls silent for a moment, and then –

There's only one thing that makes that noise.

Poe opens his eyes to a purple glow with a gasp.

"I didn't say you could open your eyes," Finn says, but he's grinning nearly as wide as he was in the hanger. He's swathed in the glow of the lightsaber –  _ his  _ lightsaber – and Poe's speechless. He's beautiful, face cast in soft purple, one hand wrapped around the gold and white hilt, exuding gentle, strong power so intensely Poe's immersed in it, in  _ him _ . It's immediately addicting.

"So?" Finn prompts, shifting his weight. Poe's just staring at him. "What do you think?" 

"I–" Poe starts, and he's  _ so  _ dazed, amazed, in love. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful. It's – you're – amazing. You made this?" 

Finn deactivates the saber and offers it to Poe, who takes it almost reverently, turning it over carefully in his hands. He rubs his thumb over the biggest piece of white, wrapped near the bottom. It clicks, suddenly, and he looks up to Finn.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asks, and Finn nods.

"Probably," he says. "Old pieces of Stormtrooper armor." He watches Poe carefully, nervously. It had felt right –  _ feels  _ right – to include the pieces, but it's still – "It's mine," he explains. "I went back to Jakku to see if I could find any of it where I dropped it in the desert." He rubs one hand at his wrist. "Turns out," he shrugs, cutting off.

"You went back to Jakku on purpose?" Poe asks, because he doesn't know what else to say. Holding this  _ lightsaber _ , holding  _ Finn's _ lightsaber – he doesn't know what to think, lost somewhere between thoughts of love and pride, between thinking  _ this makes it all worth it  _ and  _ kriff, he's so hot.  _ The kyber crystal he wears is as bright as it's ever been, this close to its partner.

_ Partner _ . 

"That's what Rey said," Finn tells him with a nervous chuckle.

"Finn," Poe says, still looking down at the saber hilt as he passes it back to its creator. "It's – wow."

Finn clips the lightsaber to his belt. "Poe Dameron, speechless?" he jokes, but the edge of his nerves cuts sharp in the air. Poe shakes his head.

"I'm so proud of you," he says, and he reaches for Finn, pulls him closer. "I'm  _ so  _ proud of you." He rests his palm on Finn's neck, thumb under his jaw. "You did it, darling, you  _ did _ it. You did it."

Finn nods, and he's crying, Poe realizes, shifting his hand to wipe away the tears. "I'm so proud of you."

Finn's smiling and he's crying and  _ this is what Rey was talking about _ , he thinks, the bone-deep feeling of rightness that comes after the trials, after the saber, when everything aligns, when everything is as it's meant to be,  _ when you choose what's right.  _

"You're really a Jedi, now, aren't you," Poe says, and Finn can't help his watery laugh.

"I've been trying to tell you," he huffs, taking in a breath. He shifts his gaze around Poe's face, from the soft, upward curve of his lips to the crinkled crow's feet around his eyes, such simple pictures of joy.

"You're right," he says, an exhale, the last piece of his peace sliding into place, pitched like the  _ thank you _ it is. "You're  _ right _ ."


	6. + finn [dameron]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise double post bc i just want to throw happiness at yall
> 
> thanks for reading! hope yall enjoyed :')

Finn stands at the edge of the dance floor – a patch of grass and moss surrounded by tables and chairs borrowed from conference rooms and the mess – watching Poe move in the warm glow of the string lights. He's glided along with Rose and Chewie and Connix and Snap and just about two-thirds of the base, shining so bright in the Force Finn nearly reflexively squints.

"So," Rey says, appearing next to him. She stirs her drunk with a twitch of her finger. Finn raises an eyebrow at her, and she raises her own back as she takes a sip. She turns to the dance floor, to Poe. "He seems happy."

Finn laughs, a sudden, short sound. "That's one way to put it," he says, having spent the last several hours halfway blinded by the brightness of Poe's happiness. Rey bumps their shoulders together.

"You do, too," she says. Finn scuffs his foot.

"I am," he says, soft. "I never thought I could be this happy."

He catches Rey's gentle smile from the corner of his eye, and turns to look at her. She rests her hand on Finn's cheek.

"You deserve it," she tells him. "More than anyone."

Finn reaches up, grabs her hand from his cheek to hold it between his own. He knows she can feel what he's feeling, knows his joy is thick as syrup in their bond. Rey grins.

"Well, maybe not more than me," she amends, and Finn laughs again, loud and full. He squeezes Rey's hand where it's still between his own.

"I love you," he says, the humor gently fading from his tone. "Thank you."

"I don't know what you're thanking me for," Rey tells him. "But you're welcome."

They stand together, hand in hand, in momentary, comfortable quiet, attention returned to Poe and his ridiculous dancing. Rey shakes her head.

"I can't believe you wanted to marry that," she says, getting a third big laugh from Finn.

"It definitely wasn't his dancing that convinced me," he says. Rey sighs, dramatic.

"That's a relief," she says. "I'd be worried about you if it was."

Poe turns to them, then, oversized frown on his face. "Hey" he calls, "I can feel you trash-talking me, Skywalker!" 

Rey grins, sharp. "What are you gonna do about it, Dameron?" she calls back, and Finn could not be more embarrassed, or more proud, to call these two people his family.

Poe starts making his way towards them.

"Oh, you've done it, now," Finn mutters to Rey, who's still laughing her ass off as Poe comes to stand in front of them.

"You," he says, pointng at Rey, and then changes his mind, turning to Finn instead. " _ You _ ," he repeats, happiness dripping from the word, and he holds either side of Finn's face as he leans in to kiss him, soft and quick. Rey sticks her tongue out.

"Gross," she says. Poe reaches an arm for her. 

"C'mere," he says, grabbing onto her shoulder and pulling her into a group hug.

Finn feels so full of love he could explode with it, standing here – at his  _ wedding, his  _ wedding – holding onto the two people who matter most to him, the two people who make up the other two-thirds of their little family.

"All of this happiness might kill me," Rey says. Poe shoves her shoulder.

"I thought Jedi weren't supposed to lie," Poe says, then he's grabbing her drink, placing it on the table behind Finn.

Rey pouts after her drink, but Poe grabs her hands, dragging her along onto the dance floor. "Dance with me," he laughs, catching Rey as she stumbles forward after him.

"That doesn't sound like a question," she says, and Poe grins, guiding her into a spin.

"It's not!" he agrees, gleeful, leading her into a simple slow dance. Her petulant attitude is a paper-thin facade, though, her genuine joy so clear to both Finn and Poe, with and without the Force. Finn watches the two of them dance, watches the lights cast shifting shadows over Poe's crinkled crow's feet, watches Rey's head thrown back in laughter, and he knows a peace so thorough it feels like he's found eternity.

Poe and Rey make their way back around the dance floor to Finn, stopping in front of him. Rey steps away from Poe, all but shoving Finn at him instead. 

"Go dance with your husband," she commands, "before somebody else has to." She retrieves her drink from the table as Poe laughs.

"Love you too, boss," he says, winding an arm around Finn's waist. He turns to him, eyebrow raised. "Well?"

"Oh, you're giving me a choice?" Finn says. Rey snorts beside him.

"Not really," Poe tells him. "As my husband, you're legally required to dance with me."

Finn hums, and he drapes his arms over Poe's shoulders, leaning into his space. 

"Lead the way, then, flyboy."

Poe slots their fingers together – the weight of his hand in Finn's such a familiar, comfortable feeling – and walks Finn out under the lights. 

They easily carve a little space for themselves in the center of the dance floor, their guests parting for them. Poe spins them in a wide circle, holding onto Finn's waist as Finn leans his head back, looking up at the swirling lights above them, and then he pulls Finn to his chest, bringing a hand up to cup the side of his face as he leans in for a kiss. It's slow and sweet and deep and Finn is everything Poe ever wanted. 

Finn shifts them into a makeshift slow dance, rests his temple against Poe's shoulder, face in his neck, one hand on Poe's back and the other intertwined with Poe's, resting against Poe's chest.

Poe has his nose pressed into Finn's forehead, gently swaying them side to side with the music, softly, intermittently singing along. He feels like they've spent a small, beautiful forever together here in the center of this improvised dance floor, and for a moment he wishes this night would never end. 

"You're thinking," Finn murmurs. "Better be about me."

Poe laughs, more of a rushed release of air than anything else. He rubs his thumb against Finn's hand. "Of course it's about you," he says. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

"I am an excellent husband," Finn agrees, enjoying the sound Poe's voice makes as it rumbles in his chest. "And it's only been a few hours."

Poe hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to Finn's forehead. "I love you," he says, soft. Finn huffs.

"Here's me, trying to be funny, and here's you, nearly drowning me with love and affection," he says. "How am I supposed to compete with that?" 

Poe turns them in a circle and holds Finn tighter to him. 

"Guess you'll just have to keep trying," Poe says with a quiet chuckle. "You've got forever, so I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"No pressure," Finn says.

"I have faith in you," Poe assures him. "Finn  _ Dameron _ ," he adds, saying it out loud for the first time, and it settles over his heart, settles in the air around them, a final piece sliding into place. He sighs, a light, happy sound. "Well, I definitely like the sound of that."

"They're both your names, so I'd hope so," Finn says, laughing softly. He squeezes Poe's hand, the sound of his name, his new,  _ full  _ name in Poe's voice playing on repeat in his head, sounding an awful lot like everything he's ever wanted. He bumps his nose with Poe's, a gentle smile on his lips. "I definitely like the sound of it, too."


End file.
